La Vie
by J.A.K
Summary: This is an epic story of Life, Deception, and Tragedy; a story of how surprising life can be, and how cold, but sometimes comforting reality is. Mainly Chloe/Clark
1. Ma Vie

**Title**- La Vie

**Author**- J.A.K

**Rating**- R: for real life feelings and real life situations that aren't always PG-13

**Summary**- Quite a bit of time has passed since Chloe and Clark have found their happiness in each other. This is the continuation of the goings-on in their lives including the lives of everyone else around them. This is an epic story of Life, Deception, and Tragedy; a story of how surprising life can be, and how cold, but sometimes comforting reality is. Find out what extraordinary events could break Chloe and Clark apart, and what could bring Lex and Lana together. This is a fanfic told through the eyes of every single person that has bearing on these four young people's lives.

**Author's Note**- A continuation of Debi's '_It's Now or Never_ 'and '_Monday at School'_. My story has a plot and even a sub-plot that I promise will leave you wanting more. Scroll down and give it a chance. 

**An**** part 2: Clark and Lana are 17, while Pete and Chloe are 18 years old (Chloe only three months older than Clark and Pete the oldest, scoring six months over any of them). I know this isn't exactly right, but for the purposes of my story I've made it that way. I've also made Lex 22.**

**AN part 3**: A very SPECIAL thanks goes out to my Beta-reader Alisa West, aka AW, who is woman enough to tell me like it is- even when what it is, _isn't up to par.  A great big shout-out also goes to my sister, for reading it over and having the final say. Thank You!_

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**_^Chapter One^_**

****

**Chloe**

A year has passed since that pivotal day when the lines of friendship were crossed and platonic boundaries were broken; a year later since that fateful Saturday when my best friend- since eighth grade- became my lover.

I- Chloe Sullivan- was currently sitting on a mound of blankets, on top of my bed, and writing in a diary that I'd had for a little more than six months now. 

Stiff drops of rain were making themselves heard against the glass of my windows and the dull tiles of the house. The sounds, however, didn't lull me to sleep and out of what I was doing. It did just the opposite in fact, making a more than adequate substitute for my broken radio. 

I leaned forward, resting on my elbows, and continued writing down my thoughts; writing for two pages about how funny life was. About how there were so many twists and turns along that journey we all must invariably take, that leads us to a juncture in a road that many of us never see coming. 

In mid stroke, I abruptly stopped my actions and paused to take note of the wave of dizziness that passed over me. A sigh rose and died in my chest along with the pang of irritation that had begun to form. It was very frustrating to feel sick, and not know where the source of the ailment was coming from. 

This wasn't the first time this feeling had happened, but usually it was accompanied by other symptoms. 

To say I was terrified the first time I felt cramping (totally unrelated to my menstrual cycle) accompanied by nausea, would be a _vast_ understatement. There was _no_ way I could be pregnant I had reasoned at the time. There was no way our methods of contraception had failed- though we had been getting less careful about our responsibilities as we grew more familiar with each other's bodies. So I waited and prayed for my period to come, and breathed the biggest sigh of relief I'm sure mankind has ever heard, when it finally came. 

It was good to know that I wasn't pregnant- excellent as a matter of fact. But the feelings of sickness were still there, and I wasn't any closer in my reasoning to understand why.

Note to self,

Self: ...GO SEE THE DOCTOR.

As much as it pained me to admit that something was wrong, I had to suck it up and get over the fact that my hard fought record would come to an end; the record being that I had not been to the hospital since that last wall of weird incident, which had occurred over a year ago. 

I wrote down the initials GStD in my diary, as a reminder of what I had to do. I don't know why I didn't write out the entire sentence, or why a truckload of apprehension settled in my stomach when I thought of the whole situation. 

Looking back, I have to wonder if one of the meteor rocks hadn't given me some sort of psychic powers where I could feel when disaster was about to strike. 

I put down my pink-feathered pen for the second time that night and wondered what Clark was up to. I wondered if he was as bummed out as I was about our temporary state of forced separation. 

The pictures about what happened that..._eventful_ afternoon, were threatening to replay themselves for about the thousandth time in my mind. So with Herculean effort, I shoved the offending thoughts away. 

Essentially, to make a very long story short, Clark and I were found- by my father- in a compromising position in my bedroom. And after a lot of yelling and lecturing, my father told Clark that he thought it would be best if we "cooled off for a while" so that things wouldn't get "any further out of control." 

To be perfectly honest, I don't think Clark even registered that part of the conversation. Or if he did, he didn't show it. All he could seemingly focus on was the fact that my dad said that he wouldn't tell his parents what had transpired that afternoon, because he thought Clark was a good kid who had succumbed in a moment of weakness.

What happened after that? 

Well, Clark being Clark, blushed, nodded, and went home. That was more than five days ago, and I haven't been alone with him since. 

That very upsetting thought set in motion what I'd wanted to do for the past half an hour since my dad was called in to work because of an emergency down at the plant.

I glanced around the room and jumped out of bed. Quickly finding a piece of paper and scribbling down a note that said I was at the Talon doing research, I threw on my sneakers and pushed a really pretty pair of earrings through my ear lobes. I grabbed a scrunchie and did up my now shoulder length hair into a bun that rested neatly on the nape of my neck. Glancing in a mirror to make sure everything was okay, I took my raincoat and my keys and made a beeline straight for the Kent Farm Estate.

****************************

**Lana**

Irrespective of everything that has happened to date, I know- with firm conviction- that I still have lingering feelings for Clark Kent. 

I realized that two weeks ago when jealousy overwhelmed me as I saw him and Chloe walking hand in hand into this _same_ coffee shop, laughing loudly at what was probably some joke that Pete had told.

Yep… two weeks ago.

Two weeks ago when I still thought there had been an indication of _something_ that could have meant that Clark had come to his senses and wanted to be with me. Two weeks ago when I had my ego -not to mention my feelings- crushed when I realized that he wasn't even staring at _me, but at Chloe, who had somehow gotten behind my back without me noticing her._

It was amazing what could happen in fourteen days.

Right now, I was in The Talon, rooted to my position by the cash register. 

The lights from inside were reflecting dimly off the glass walls, causing a glare to form against the surface. 

_That_ made it almost impossible to see outside.

Outside didn't matter though. There was nothing going on out there, like there was just as equally nothing going on in here... 

I let out a deep breath and moved from where I had been standing so I could accept all the comforts the cushion booths had to offer. 

Outside…

Driving deeper and deeper into thought I serenely realized that I- Lana Lang- was bigger than the sedentary confines of Smallville. I, for the first time ever, became aware of the fact that somewhere out there, was a bigger and better place for me; a greater purpose for how my life was to be lived. 

I shrugged. 

There was maybe even a little adventure to be found along the way.

I absentmindedly pushed back a wisp of hair that had fallen into my face, and continued to dream. 

I thought about how, for starters, any good adventure needed a mystery. A mystery that would keep you enthralled with your own good luck for having found something so wonderfully unfamiliar and different. 

Looking around the shop again, I felt disappointment wash over me. 

There were absolutely no mysteries in Smallville. There was nothing or no one here to lead me out of the monotony of my own life...

...AND FREEZE.

Now here is where I _wish_ I had a camera that could have captured, forever, the still frames of that very thought. A thought that I would always feel was _the_ point where everything previous to its happening could be labeled as 'Before', and everything following its happening could be labeled as 'After'.

Looking back, I would always swear on my parents' grave that fate knew _exactly what I was thinking and decided to intervene on my behalf. _

I wish that I had been a little faster on the uptake, and I wish that I hadn't so blatantly ignored what was staring me right in the face all along. 

But maybe that's how everything was supposed to happen anyway. Maybe the unknowing was what ultimately added to the overall experience. Because it _was an experience; an experience that took me on a ride that I could never have expected or foreseen._

It's funny the way life works like that.

 I raised my imaginary champagne glass and gave a toast to life, silently thanking it for me not knowing that I was about to cross the path of the biggest mystery ever presented to Smallville (besides the one we all know is Clark) and unknowingly to myself.

It was at _that moment- as I looked up- that Lex Luthor entered the Talon, running a hand over the surface of his bare head and walking straight in the direction of my booth._


	2. La Suite

**Title**- La Vie

**Author**- J.A.K

**Rating**- R: for real life feelings and real life situations that aren't always PG-13

**Summary**- Quite a bit of time has passed since Chloe and Clark have found their happiness in each other. This is the continuation of the goings-on in their lives including the lives of everyone else around them. This is an epic story of Life, Deception, and Tragedy; a story of how surprising life can be, and how cold, but sometimes comforting reality is. Find out what extraordinary events could break Chloe and Clark apart, and what could bring Lex and Lana together. This is a fanfic told through the eyes of every single person that has bearing on these four young people's lives.

**Author's Note**- A continuation of Debi's '_It's Now or Never_ 'and '_Monday at School'_. My story has a plot and even a sub-plot that I promise will leave you wanting more. Scroll down and give it a chance. 

**AN**** part 2: Clark and Lana are 17, while Pete and Chloe are 18 years old (Chloe only three months older than Clark and Pete the oldest, scoring six months over any of them). I know this isn't exactly right, but for the purposes of my story I've made it that way. I've also made Lex 22.**

**AN part 3**: A very SPECIAL thanks goes out to my Beta-reader Alisa West, aka AW, who is woman enough to tell me like it is- even when what it is, _isn't up to par.  A great big shout-out also goes to my sister, for reading it over and having the final say. Thank You!_

**AN**** part 4: Please don't be confused. All I did was break up the two parts and do a little touching up on what I've already written. All three narratives are basically the same, just…better!**

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**_^Chapter Two^_******

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**Clark**

****

It was Saturday night in Smallville, Kansas and I was bored.

**_Bored_**!

In fact, boredom felt like if it was gonna materialize right in front of my eyes and bite me. 

Every time I thought about why I was by myself this evening, I got mad. Mad at myself and Chloe for foolishly leaving her door unlocked, but most of all mad at Mr. Sullivan for forcing us apart in the first place. 

By the same token, I was also very grateful towards Mr. Sullivan for not telling my parents what he had walked in on. If he had, they would've probably put two and two together and made sure that no visitors ever came to my loft after eight o'clock again. 

Today was sort of that milestone day where most people say, "We passed it, we got here, but it's over now, did you catch it?" It was exactly a year to the day since Chloe and I went that extra distance and found that, while friendship was good, a physical relationship was even better. 

And I wanted to be with her.

I groaned miserably into my pillow feeling the weariness that I had been pushing off crawl gradually back inside of me. I might as well get to sleep, I reasoned, even _this_ body needs to rest sometime.

It was during this period between sleep and wake that I heard a voice that I was sure was a part of my dream.

"_Clark" came the whisper._

"Huh" I felt my lips part and my body jerk towards the source of the sound, but my mind couldn't respond as it was still in a befuddled if not confused state. 

The voice sounded gentler this time.

"Clark, wake up."

"Wha'?" 

Now that _really didn't make sense. This was __my dream. How could the voices from __my dream tell me that I had to wake up? _

I felt the lines of my face rise in confusion. 

"Clark?" There was a silence. "Clark wake up right now."

Well…_that was weird, 'cause the voice sounded as if it belonged to Chloe; but that _couldn't_ be Chloe because she wasn't allowed to come over..._

...wait...

...if this _is_ a dream, that means Chloe technically could come over whenever she wanted to.

I felt my lips rise in a smile.

"Oh, so you're smiling now? That means you must be dreaming about something good." There was another string of silence, but when the voice returned it sounded ten times louder than before. 

"You better be dreaming about me Clark Kent, because if you're not I am gonna kick your-"

"_Chloe_?" I sprung up abruptly making our heads collide in a way that I knew was painful for her as it wasn't for me.

I sat up in my bed and took a much needed second to take in what was really happening. I saw that Chloe had backed away from her original position, and was now sitting on the edge of the bed holding a hand to the side of her head.

I tried to slide closer to her, but she leaned away from my touch.

"Chloe I'm sorry, but when you woke me up like that-"

"Clark its okay" She moved her hand so that she could look me square in the eyes. "Really, it's just that I had a headache from before and this kind of" she shrugged leaving a hint of a smile on her face "intensified it."

I looked down, not wanting to meet her eyes. I didn't want to give her that look that she said made her feel guilty, even when there was nothing to feel guilty about. She had told me that during what I'd thought to be the fight that ended our relationship. It was a big and nasty shouting match, where words were exchanged that shouldn't have been; and things were said that were extremely out of order. She hurt me and I hurt her worse. At least that's what I always thought, no matter what she said. She couldn't possibly have seen the look in her eyes when I told her the bit about never being able to compare to Lana- Lana being the reason the fight started in the first place- who was on a pedestal so high that even if she jumped twenty feet into the air, she still couldn't touch her with a ten foot pole.

I didn't know what I was thinking when I said that. 

No that's a lie. 

I did know what I was thinking. I was thinking that I should aim for a topic that I _knew made her feel insecure, and twist it into an insult that would hurt her most- as she had hurt me. I knew some people after hearing what I said- namely Pete- wanted to beat the shit out of me for saying it, but all I had been repeating over and over in my mind was that after all this time, she _still_ didn't trust me. _

How could someone who claimed to love you _so_ much, not trust you? 

Reflecting on it today, I realize that she was and is still validated in her reasoning. How could she _not_ have her suspicions when I continue to give her half-assed answers as to why I have to run out on a date; or explain where I had been for the last two hours, when in fact, we were supposed to meet more than three hours ago. 

But I'm digressing. 

After those words came out of my mouth, I had expected a slap in the face, but instead got much worse. 

For the second time, for as long as I'd ever known her, Chloe started to cry. Not big heaving sobs, but tiny tremulous breaths that were accompanied by a rivulet of tears that rolled by her chin. I knew she was desperately trying to suppress her emotions and hold it all in, because I knew how much she detested crying. 

I knew that in that instance, she hated me deeply, because not only had I made her cry, but I had made her cry in front of me.

"Chloe-" I had tried.

"_No_" She cut me off. "No more talking." She disdainfully eyed the promise ring that I had given her. "You said it all just now." After that, she took the ring off and threw it at me. 

Hard. 

Hard enough that if I hadn't ducked, and if my skin wasn't prone to disregarding things like cuts and bruises, I would have been bleeding from underneath my cheek bone.

And maybe if she was yelling at me like she had been before I would have felt just a little bit better. But she wasn't. She was speaking to me in a tone that I had never heard her use before. It was almost menacing.

That night she left without another word. For days- weeks I had tried to call her, but she wouldn't talk to me. How we got back together after that I would never quite understand, but I thanked God profusely for big favors and learned a valuable lesson, one that told me how stupid it was to cut off my nose to spite my face. My pride had almost made me lose someone more important than my abilities…and maybe even my parents. My pride had almost made me lose my heart.

"Clark, are you listening?"

She was talking?

I quickly lifted my eyes so that I could look at her.

"Yeah, I'm listening."

I saw irritation flood her features although it was quickly replaced by a more nonchalant sort of expression

"I guess it's not a big deal any way."

Trying to follow her, I nodded my head dumbly in a last ditch effort in appearing to have understood what she had been saying. 

She shook her head from side to side, smiling, and I noticed for the first time the earrings that were dangling off her ears. I noted briefly that I had to tell her to wear them more often because they brought out the lighter shades of green in her eyes. "You are what polite society would call _clueless_ farm boy." She scooted closer, mockingly chucking me under my chin. "Lucky for you, you carry around reserves of the Kent charm."

I saw my chance. "Lucky for me I have you." Without waiting for a reply, I leaned over, placing one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, bringing her to sit in my lap.

"See what I mean?" She put her hands around my neck and tilted closer to my face until our lips were a breath away. "Kent charm."

I slipped my left hand under the edges of her shirt while the other softly stroked the lightly bruised area.

"I _am really sorry about that." I glanced swiftly at the afflicted area then back at her._

"That doesn't matter Clark." She pushed herself back, temporarily making herself out of my reach so that she could swing her leg over and straddle my lap. She inched her way towards me. "All that matters is that we're together, and that we can finally have sex."

Her wicked smile and teasing glare wasn't enough to wipe the shocked look off my face.

"Now Chloe..." My eyebrows rose mischievously. "Don't tell me you're one of _those_ people addicted to that stuff." I moved to sit on the side of the bed, taking her with me as I let my hands settle comfortably on either side of her waist.

She raised a finger and pointed it at my chest. "I know you're not getting indignant Mr. _But it could be quick_."

I felt the blood rise to my cheeks in embarrassment as I remembered two days ago when I had called; asking for her to join me in what most would call "a quickie."

I didn't know what to say in response to that, so I tried to drive the blush away by staring intensely at a mole on the top column of her shoulder.

While concentrating on not blushing, I saw her discarded raincoat out of my peripheral vision. 

Under the tips of my fingers I felt the soft cotton of a white pajama top and the rough edges of what was my personal favorite- her blue low rise jeans.

It was when my face became heated for an entirely different reason, that she leaned forward and slid her hands around my neck once again.

"You know Clark", I raised my eyes to look at her, only to find that she wasn't even staring at me; which meant that she didn't quite know how to express what she wanted to say. This really meant that she was gonna say something that was, for lack of a better word, mushy. 

"Sometimes I think there's no way I could fall anymore in love with you, but then you do little innocent stuff like that, and I swear I just fall deeper."

I didn't say anything; I just brought her closer to me until I could feel her even breaths against the plains of my face. I wrapped my arms around her body and quickly ran my hands over her back, letting them lie at her waist where my fingertips had gone slightly beyond the top of her jeans. I planted a kiss on the side of her neck before letting my head rest there.

Her hands hung loosely on top of my shoulders as she ran her fingers through my hair. 

I knew she silently understood my actions and all that they meant. I knew that she understood me.

Inhaling her scent I realized how ironic it was that I had become the less emotional one; the one whose heart wasn't left naked on their sleeve. 

It wasn't that my feelings were any less than hers, it was just that I didn't really know how to handle the kind of love I was experiencing. 

This kind of love made me want to tell her about my powers, about what it really meant to be me. But telling her that threatened my livelihood, which in turn threatened my family. I shut my eyes even tighter. It was just too much of a risk.

Pushing those thoughts out of my mind, I lifted my head so that I could kiss her. I kissed her while her eyes were still open, and stared into them for a second before closing my own. 

Reaching in between us, I unhurriedly unbuttoned her jeans. 

The moan that later escaped her lips when I made the kisses deeper, let me know with a surprising sureness, that no matter where my crazy life took me, I always had to have Chloe by my side.

J.A.K- If you've made it this far then I think it's safe to assume that you are seeing this message. I know these two chapters' had a lot of scenes that took place in the past, and showed _a lot_ of what they were thinking- but I had to give you a certain insight into how each character has changed. They're older and wiser. I also had to showcase that fight with Chloe and Clark to let you see that they have not been having a fairy tale romance. They had to fight hard to be where they are right now. 

Next Chapter- The plot picks up as Sexy Lexy enters the scene.

By the way…I LOVE reviews. Not that I'm an attention hog or anything, it's just that everyone needs a _little_ incentive to keep writing. So bad or good, bring it on!


	3. Ennui

**Title**- La Vie

**Author**- J.A.K

**Rating**- R: for real life feelings and real life situations that aren't always PG-13

**Summary**- Quite a bit of time has passed since Chloe and Clark have found their happiness in each other. This is the continuation of the goings-on in their lives including the lives of everyone else around them. This is an epic story of Life, Deception, and Tragedy; a story of how surprising life can be, and how cold, but sometimes comforting reality is. Find out what extraordinary events could break Chloe and Clark apart, and what could bring Lex and Lana together. This is a fanfic told through the eyes of every single person that has bearing on these four young people's lives.

**Author's Note**- A continuation of Debi's '_It's Now or Never_ 'and '_Monday at School'_. My story has a plot and even a sub-plot that I promise will leave you wanting more. Scroll down and give it a chance. 

**An**** part 2: Clark and Lana are 17, while Pete and Chloe are 18 years old (Chloe only three months older than Clark and Pete the oldest, scoring six months over any of them). I know this isn't exactly right, but for the purposes of my story I've made it that way. I've also made Lex 22. **

**An part 3**: A very SPECIAL thanks goes out to my Beta-reader Alisa West, aka AW, who is woman enough to tell me like it is- even when what it is, _isn't_ up to par. A great big shout-out also goes to my sister, for reading it over and having the final say. Thank You!

****

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**^Chapter Two^**

**Lex Luthor: One hour earlier**

Leaning back in my chair, I calmly gazed out of my office's window, taking in all the differing silhouettes that were now being obscured by enormous gray-black clouds. I closed my eyes as the harsh winds of outside flew through a small opening that lay along the frame, creating a soft breeze; one that filled my body with peace, as the perfumes of soil and earth mixed together. 

The shrill sound of my mobile phone ringing abruptly brought me out of my temporary reverie. 

I leaned forward and snatched the offending object off my desk.

"Lex." I stated shortly, thinking that someone had better have a fucking good reason for calling my private line.

"I hope you only use that tone of voice on _me." There was a pause; one that made it possible for me to actually hear him smile. "Otherwise, that sham you pose as a business might come to an abrupt end."_

I felt my previous irritation increase tenfold, deleting any hesitations I might have had to reply.

"If such a thing was ever _sabotaged to happen, I'm sure you'd be the first in line to offer your bullshit condolences…_father._"_

I held the receiver even tighter than before, and waited for his response.

"As far as your suggestion goes that I might _somehow have something to do with the inevitable downfall of your company, I must say that I am highly insulted."_

A familiar smirk settled itself over my features.

"_Believe_ me when I say that making you insulted, much less '_highly insulted,' is an extremely enjoyable not to mention stimulating task."_

His laugh trickled through the line of connection and into my ear.

"I am afraid it is too late to use sarcasm as a means defense. You have already let your opponent see your anger, and in so doing, you have let him see your weakness." There was a brief sigh. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was disappointment that colored his voice. "Have you learned _nothing_ from Alexander the Great? While he had enormous intellect and vision, his ambition eventually got the better of him." His voice was reduced by decibels. "Always remember son: what you cannot take by force you must take by subtlety."

Now it was _this_ aspect of Lionel Luthor that confused me the most. It was expected of him to give me insidious advice on business and life as a spectator. It was expected that he couldn't bring himself to care for me as a father would.  It _wasn't_ expected when moments like these occurred, where it almost seemed as if he gave a flying fuck.

Almost, being the operative word.

I leaned back, stretching out my legs and propping my feet on my desk, crossing them at the ankle.

"So is this where the music comes on and somewhere in the background the narrator says: he _does have a heart after all kids."_

To my surprise, there was a very telling, prolonged sort of silence.

"As much as I love these- ah- conversations that you and I share, there are far more important issues at hand here."

"Such as…"

"My men found someone adding files into the Luthor Corporation database."

My head sank into the inviting warmth of the leather.

"And this concerns me _how?"_

I noticed reflectively that the ceiling was actually much higher up than most people, myself included, might expect.

"I believe there is a file that I am holding in my hands that you would find most interesting."

"Would I?"

"Oh yes you would. As a matter of fact, the name of the file that you seem so _earnestly_ to want is…"

I rolled my eyes when he didn't continue.

"_Well?_"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

When I didn't respond, he went right into his objective.

"Livet siro tulexel." There was a beat of silence. "At least I assume that is how these words are pronounced."

I immediately put my legs on the ground, and sat forward. My breathing had become heavy and I knew I sounded desperate even to my ears. "Say that again."

"_Oh_? So now I have your complete attention."

I felt my teeth grind together. "I don't have time for this shit. Repeat what you just said."

There was a brief hesitation of consideration. "Alright. It's not as if you won't find out anyway." He gave a deep rich laugh. "Is it really _so_ important to you?"

I swore under my breath.

"If you insist then. The words are: Liveht siroh tulexel"

I didn't wait to hear what he had to say. I snapped my phone shut and put it in my pocket as I headed towards the intercom.

"Anne, please let Smith know that I need my car ready in five minutes."

"Of course sir."

My eyes made one last sweep of my study as I left in search of the only link I had that could help me make sense of the situation at hand.

*********************************

**Martha Kent**

The light from Clark's room distracted me to no avail as I washed the dishes. Squeezing extra soap on to the sponge, I silently thought up the most effective way to yell at him for leaving the light on again. 

It was while I was imagining varying scenarios in my mind that a forgotten weariness decided to hit almost every functioning muscle that I had.

_Well_… he _did go to bed pretty early, maybe he's still up studying. _

I lightly shook my head.

Whatever the reason, I quickly decided that I should go up there and check on him anyway.

I put the last dish away and took off my gloves. Heading towards the barn, I remembered that I could even ask him why Chloe hadn't been to the house in such a long time.

**An**** part 4: Reviews are muchly appreciated and greatly adored!**


	4. Interferito

**Title**- La Vie

**Author**- J.A.K

**Rating**- R: for real life feelings and real life situations that aren't always PG-13

**Summary**- Quite a bit of time has passed since Chloe and Clark have found their happiness in each other. This is the continuation of the goings-on in their lives including the lives of everyone else around them. This is an epic story of Life, Deception, and Tragedy; a story of how surprising life can be, and how cold, but sometimes comforting reality is. Find out what extraordinary events could break Chloe and Clark apart, and what could bring Lex and Lana together. This is a fanfic told through the eyes of every single person that has bearing on these four young people's lives.

**Author's Note**- A continuation of Debi's '_It's Now or Never_ 'and '_Monday at School'_. My story has a plot and even a sub-plot that I promise will leave you wanting more. Scroll down and give it a chance. 

**An**** part 2**: Clark and Lana are 17, while Pete and Chloe are 18 years old (Chloe only three months older than Clark and Pete the oldest, scoring six months over any of them). I know this isn't exactly right, but for the purposes of my story I've made it that way. I've also made Lex 22.

**AN part 3**: A very SPECIAL thanks goes out to my Beta-reader Alisa West, aka AW, who is woman enough to tell me like it is- even when what it is, _isn't up to par. A great big shout-out also goes to my sister, for reading it over and having the final say. Thank You!_

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**^Chapter Four^**

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**Clark******

I listened momentarily to the soothing tones of the distant storm, appreciating briefly the raw unadulterated beauty of the thunder exploding in the night air. Out of the corner of my eye I also noticed the lightening that seemed to be softly kneading the sloping planes of the sky every other minute. Continuing to trail slow deliberate kisses down the column of Chloe's neck, I silently wondered why things had to be so hard for the two of us. 

_Well_, maybe where _this particular aspect of our relationship was concerned, things were only hard for me. _

I muffled my snort in the hollow of Chloe's shoulder. 

Who ever said that ignorance was bliss must have been a genius. 

Here it was that even to this day, a year since Chloe and I first had sex, I still have difficulty giving up absolute control. It wasn't that I didn't long for release, as any sane person would, I was just afraid to fully let go. Complete loss of control meant that I might accidentally use one of my powers on Chloe, resulting in me critically wounding her or worse.

I stopped my kisses as her nails raked teasingly down my back, forcing any coherent thoughts I had been having temporarily out of my mind. 

My brain, frozen though it was, still had enough awareness to give her credit for the level of her persistence. After all, she had cleverly found a way to carry out those aforementioned actions with my shirt still on. Resting my head in the crook of her neck, I sucked in a gust of air and held it, not wanting a simple thing like breathing to interfere with the process of this act. 

The pads of her fingers were barely touching my skin, but that was the simplistic beauty of it. If any more pressure were applied then it wouldn't be pleasurable. She let her ministrations continue at the base of my spine for countless moments until her hand leisurely slid back up at an agonizingly slow pace. Her thumbs settled at the base of my neck while the rest of her fingers began mingling with the strands of my hair.

Instead of resuming my prior actions, I covered her lips with my own, slipping my tongue into her parted mouth. Adjusting myself, I carefully displaced some of the weight from my elbows onto her flaxen form. I made an audible groan and closed my eyes which had wondered open of their own accord. I almost got lost in the sensations of her lips when she pulled away from me and began messaging my ear with them.

Almost.

It wasn't that what she was doing didn't feel good; it was just that _somehow_, my previous anxiety had begun outweighing the enjoyment of her touch.

The hormone driven side of me told my brain that nothing had ever happened before. The more cautious, logical part of me told my heart that even if it _didn't_ happen last time, it could _still_ happen this time.

It was the continuing occurrence of having intrusive thoughts like those that caused a groan of frustration to escape my mouth.

"Clark, what's wrong?"

I opened my eyes to meet Chloe's concerned face as she looked at me questioningly from where she lay underneath my body. I hadn't even realized that she'd stopped kissing my face or that I'd stopped leaning into her touch.

I pushed myself back up a little.

"Nothing's wrong."

I could tell by the glint that surrounded the ring of her irises that she was unconvinced.

"Are you sure?"

I watched her intently for an unhurried second, my eyes staring lingeringly at the plains of her face. They slowly wondered down as far as my unobstructed view could take me. 

I couldn't help but notice the fact that her skin appeared to glow underneath the glare of the light, and that it caused her to have an almost golden complexion. 

"Yes" I said, leaning down further and gently sucking her bottom lip "I'm sure."

She brought her hand to the nape of my neck where she lightly grabbed the back of my white cotton t-shirt. 

My shirt, along with my boxers and her underwear, were the only barriers still left between our bodies. 

I pressed my mouth to hers and began running my tongue along the surface of her teeth, tasting again the sweetness of whatever she had been eating before she left her house.

Just as I began to feel relaxed again, she pulled back slightly, and questioned me for a second time.

"You can tell me what's bothering you." Her left hand found my right and I slipped my fingers in between hers. I could feel the coolness of her ring against my palm as she stared at me with serious, soft-spoken eyes. "If you don't want to do this right now, then we won't." She absentmindedly started playing and untangling the shorter strands of my hair.

Pressing almost my full weight into her body so that she could feel how much I wanted her, I let my lips gently massage her neck.

"I don't want to stop what we're doing right now." I pulled my hand out of her grasp so that I could run my fingers along the side of her chest. "All I _want_ to do right now, is take your clothes off and—" 

My words, thanks to my fingers that had journeyed below waist level, had been cut off by her loud groan of approval. 

I pulled my hand back up, feeling satisfied that I'd quelled her worries. 

I started running a trail of kisses down her neck, across the top her chest, and further still until I stopped to savor the taste of the material that covered her breasts. She rose slightly off the bed and pushed herself tighter against me.

Both of her hands gave a tight squeeze to my neck as she let out a moaned version of my name. The moan sounded breathy and sexy and my heart started pounding even more heavily in my chest.

I briefly halted what I was doing so that I could tell her to say it again.

An answering groan of anticipation escaped my throat as she said my name for a second time.

I would never get tired of hearing her say it.

***********************************************

**Chloe**

It felt as if the room had suddenly gotten three times hotter.

My body, being extremely sensitive right now, trembled slightly when he brought his head back up to whisper in my ear.

"Rise up a little bit so I can undo your clasp, baby." 

I didn't go stock still from shock, as I had done the first time he had used that term of endearment. Instead, I simply complied with his request, thinking that we both had changed a lot in a year. 

A year ago Clark hadn't even known _how_ to undo the clasp of a bra. A year ago, it would have sounded strange if he had called me baby, sweetie, or honey. There hadn't been anything wrong with him saying it; it just hadn't sounded right coming from his mouth. 

Now those words reverberated naturally in the cavities of my ears. 

I settled myself back on the bed as he flung the lacy material away. The lower region of my body tingled with excitement as our bare chests touched skin to skin for the first time that night.

His lips returned to mine, resulting into more hurried and demanding kisses than the ones we had shared before. I tightened my grip where my fingers were resting on his neck so that I could slow the motions down a bit. Kissing was just about my favorite act of foreplay and I really wanted the moment to drag out. 

As my legs came up to press against either side of his waist, I felt his moan transfer into my mouth. Feeling and hearing the sound he emitted caused my entire body to tingle.  There was something almost exhilarating knowing that I could make someone as big and strong and Clark weak with desire.

I pushed my thighs against him, squeezing his legs so that the lower parts of our bodies were joined flush against each other. He pulled his mouth away from mine to give another groan of enjoyment. 

Just as he began to sit up in what obviously an attempt to remove his boxers, I felt his muscles bunch together with barely restrained tension.

He became motionless even though his breathing was slightly ragged.

"What?" I asked, searching his face. The muscle in his jaw was tight and his lips were a bit swollen from our previous engagement.

When no answer was forth coming, I began to get nervous.

"Clark, what's wrong?  Is something ha—"

His fingers cut me off as he placed them on my mouth.

I sat up a bit, realizing that he was listening for an unknown sound.

Suddenly he flew off me and started picking up my discarded clothes.

"Clark what is it?" I was sitting all the way up now, looking anxiously at him as he traveled across the room as fast as humanly possible.

He paused to stare at me with bright green eyes, motioning for me to keep my voice down.

I stared right back at him, puzzled, yet sensing somewhere in the fissures of my mind what he was about to say.

"I think I heard my mom coming." With that said, he resumed his frenzied actions, stopping in front of his telescope to gather my raincoat where I had dropped it.

My heart skipped a beat when his words settled in.

In the fastest way I'd ever know myself capable of moving, I leapt off the bed and grabbed my shirt from him, pulling it on.

Hopping on one leg to put on my jeans, I started making my way over to the landing that was outside his immediate room so that I could hide.

"Wasn't that one of the perks of you having your room all the way out here?" I slipped my other foot in. "So that your parents wouldn't bother us?"

He pushed the rest of my stuff into my arms and steered me towards the exterior of the strip of space. 

"I thought they were asleep Clark." I turned to look at him when I got outside. "I swore their lights were turned off."

His face was clouded with nervousness. There were tight lines around his lips and his eyes had lost the hue of desire that was previously there. I also noticed that his hair clung, in tightly woven curls, to his forehead. 

Sweat appeared to be a powerful adhesive.

"I know, I know." He whispered, quickly rubbing his hands over my bare forearms, then moving to step backwards. "Just try to be as quiet as you can okay?"

I nodded, thinking immediately about the shit loads of trouble I was going to be in if Mrs. Kent told my father that she had found me in Clark's room. I sighed in a way that could've been seen as relief. At least she hadn't found me _underneath_ Clark and bra-less.

The air I had been exhaling caught in my throat.

"_Oh My God_." I gasped. My bra was still in there…lying in a less than inconspicuous place. 

I silently hoped with every fiber of my being that Clark would notice it and hide it. 

When I peeked in, however, the bra was still where he had previously thrown it. 

I wanted desperately to call out to Clark- who had hopped back into the bed- but suddenly there was a loud creak from the floorboards.  

I twisted myself out of sight just as Mrs. Kent opened the door.

"Clark?" She intoned, stepping into the room. "Are you asleep?"

When she didn't receive a response she began to cluck her tongue in way that sounded like disapproval.

I could hear her mumbling underneath her breath; something about lights and telling him in the morning.

Just as she went over to presumably turn off the self same lights she had been talking about, she stopped walking and then paused right where I swore my bra had landed. Praying fervently to God, I asked Him to show mercy. I asked Him if He wanted one of His children's lifespan to be abruptly shortened.

I held my breath as she started walking over to where I was hidden. Thinking that my father was going to be thrown into jail for killing Clark, I silently asked God if He would let that happen.

He must have answered my plea, because just then Clark wizened up to what was happening and gave a very convincing 'you-just-woke-me-up' type of call.

"_Mom_?"

Martha Kent stopped in her approach towards me, but didn't answer him. Instead she just stood there, as if she were considering. 

Finally she spoke.

"Clark, how many times do I have to tell you to turn your light off?" Her voice was low but stern.

He yawned. "I'm sorry mom." He yawned again, but longer this time, perhaps for effect. "I'm _really_ tired though, so can you finish yelling at me tomorrow?" 

I heard her footsteps going back in the direction of the door. 

Just when I thought she was about to leave, she paused in her tracks and told him: "I'll let you get away with it this time." 

Then she continued walking, and left.

I exhaled the breath I had been holding, but not out of a sense of reprieve. 

Maybe I was being delusional or maybe paranoia had set in, but there was _something_ about the way Mrs. Kent said those words that made me feel as though she wasn't referring to only the lights.

********************************************************

**Jonathan Kent**

I looked up at the ceiling, quietly pushing myself further into the bed. I scowled a little bit as my actions made the soreness around my neck flare up again. Enjoying the feeling of the soft material on my back I realized that my neck wasn't the only thing that was tender. My back ached, my legs ached…I twisted my body slightly, immediately regretting my actions…almost everything ached. But it was a good type of pain I told myself. One that left me feeling satisfied because I had accomplished more work than I had previously planned for myself. Closing my eyes and pulling the sheet over my body I turned on my side thinking that I was going to get a good nights rest.

I quickly re-opened my eyes when a thought occurred to me.

'Where was Martha?'

She said that she was going over to Clark's room to tell him something about his light; but how long did that really take?

Very much later, looking back at that moment, I would always say it was intuition—or maybe an untrained sixth sense—but at that very instance, Martha came into the room with a mixture of both worry and confusion on her face.

Seeing her in that state, I sat up in cautious alarm.

"What?" 

She came further inside the room, shutting the door behind her and stopping to sit on my side of the bed. "What is it?"

She sighed and then shook her head.

"I thought Clark told me _everything_. I mean, even those things that make _other sons and mothers uncomfortable."  She looked at me with wide eyes "_we_ would talk about it."_

Moving to put a hand on her leg, I questioned her again; suddenly feeling worried myself.

"What isn't Clark telling us?" She looked over to the table that sat beside the bed and sighed for the second time that night. "What's going on?"

Her attention focused on me again. I could see the strain of a hard days work covering the plains of her face. Momentarily drifting away in my thoughts, I silently berated myself for having a job where she had to exert herself so much. 

I know I could have invariably continued down that road, but my self-deprecating thoughts were cut down by the words that came out of her mouth.

"I think Clark and Chloe are having sex."

**An**** part 4**: Reviews are muchly appreciated and greatly adored!


	5. Amici giusti?

**Title**- La Vie

**Author**- J.A.K

**Rating**- R: for real life feelings and real life situations that aren't always PG-13

**Summary**- Quite a bit of time has passed since Chloe and Clark have found their happiness in each other. This is the continuation of the goings-on in their lives including the lives of everyone else around them. This is an epic story of Life, Deception, and Tragedy; a story of how surprising life can be, and how cold, but sometimes comforting reality is. Find out what extraordinary events could break Chloe and Clark apart, and what could bring Lex and Lana together. This is a fanfic told through the eyes of every single person that has bearing on these four young people's lives.

**Author's Note**- A continuation of Debi's '_It's Now or Never_ 'and '_Monday at School'_. My story has a plot and even a sub-plot that I promise will leave you wanting more. Scroll down and give it a chance. 

**An**** part 2**: Clark and Lana are 17, while Pete and Chloe are 18 years old (Chloe only three months older than Clark and Pete the oldest, scoring six months over any of them). I know this isn't exactly right, but for the purposes of my story I've made it that way. I've also made Lex 22.

**AN part 3**: A very SPECIAL thanks goes out to my Beta-reader Alisa West, aka AW, who is woman enough to tell me like it is- even when what it is, _isn't up to par. A great big shout-out also goes to my sister, for reading it over and having the final say. Thank You!_

****

**Lana **

My head jerked up when the door swung open; and as sure as there was rain whipping against the glass covered building, there stood Lex Luthor - glancing searchingly around the expanse of the shop, until his eyes calmed and settled on me.

I felt a wave of nervousness pass over me as he stopped, parallel to where I sat, and quietly told me that we needed to talk.

For a split second my gaze focused beyond his form, and I noticed that everyone was staring either covertly or openly at us. Ignoring them, I motioned for him to sit down.

He shook his head, stretching out his arm.

"I need for us to speak inside the office."

Hesitating for a moment, I accepted his proffered hand and stood, following him through the opened door and sitting as he closed it behind us. He didn't reciprocate my actions. Instead he opted to pace the length of the enclosed area, staring hard into a place that only he could see. 

The tense set of his shoulders and the ever increasing silence that enveloped the room, made all my previous nerves return.

I laced my fingers together and settled them on my lap.

"So Mr. Luthor…" I trailed off, not really sure of how or where to begin, but those uncertain words appeared to incite a response out of him.

"Can you believe it?" he asked with a slight lift to his eyebrows, a look that was probably the closest he ever got to expressing shock.

I cleared my throat and stared wide-eyed at his drenched, and now, immobile form.

"Can I believe what?"

He situated himself carefully in the chair that was directly opposite of me, across from the desk.

"Do you remember the file that you spoke to me about just a few weeks ago?"

I nodded my head; confused as that was the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth.

And speaking of mouths…his wasn't half bad. 

I smiled inwardly. 

As a matter of fact, it was a bit inviting. I took in a generous amount of air and sighed. 

If only this desk didn't separate us. All I'd have to do is lean over and-

"Ms. Lang, are you listening to me?"

I nodded my head vigorously, hoping to defuse the blush that had started to rise in my cheeks, and praying fervently that he hadn't activated that uncanny sixth sense he possessed, which made it seem as if he was able to read minds.

Apparently, he _had_ used it; judging by the way the corner of his mouth upturned slightly.

He leaned back in his chair, appearing to be more comfortable with our conversation.  

"I asked you if you—"

"Yes, I remember." I felt myself blush again as I realized that I had cut him off, and that he probably wasn't used to being interrupted.

My brows furrowed together, while a look of mild distress plastered itself on my face. When did the words Lana Lang suddenly become the definition of bumbling idiot?

"I'm sorry Mr.—"

He held his hand up, immediately suspending my speech.

"It's quite alright Ms. Lang, and there really is no need for formalities." 

Just as I opened my mouth to ask him if we were both on first name basis, he said that he would refer to me as Lana if that made me more comfortable.

I nodded my head in agreement. 

"Now what was that stuff about the file?"

He studied me with a sweeping gaze, as though sizing me up.

"Yes. Someone was caught in the corporation's database planting what would appear to be a replica of the same file that was sent to you."

My eyes wandered over his expensive-looking, all black apparel.

"Well what do you need me for?"

He sat up, unfolding his arms and placing them on the desk. 

"I need you to tell me exactly what the person said before they handed you the documents."

I shrugged my shoulders, flexing my intertwined fingers. 

"He said—"

"So it _was_ a he?"

I swallowed and looked away. 

"I can't say for certain now." His eyes were intense when I met them again. "I mean it sounded like a man- an older man", I added when I saw that he seemed to want more.  "But he was completely covered." 

His irises, I noted dimly, were almost ridiculously dilated.

"Think about the build." He reached out and put his fingers over mine; a gesture that I knew was purely tactical to get me to relax and talk, as he wasn't one for personal contact. "I realize that you said that it was only a few seconds, but I'm confident that if you concentrate, the answer will come to you."

I thought for a long moment. "_Yeah.  I suppose you can say that the build was that of a male." I paused, staring at my fingers. "So I guess __he said that it was your fault; and that if you had the file, then maybe he wouldn't have to do what they had sent him to do. He said maybe you would fix it on your own." I looked past his face and focused on the objects that made up the   room's background. "He said that he'd only make it available to you twice, but that you couldn't take forever to figure it out."_

As I watched him, I noticed that his facial features became impassive as he ingested everything that I'd just told him.

I jumped a bit from the sound of his chair scraping against the floor as he stood and made to leave.

"You have been most helpful Ms. Lang, but I'm afraid that I must go now."

"Wait."  I called out.

He turned his head just enough, so that his profile was facing me.

"Whatever you're about to do to investigate all of this, you'll still need my help."

The knob of the door turned as his fingers rounded the metal handle. 

"I think I can manage this situation all by myself, but thank you."

I came out from behind the desk so that I could stand in back of him.

"No matter what, I'm still the only person who he contacted- who heard him speak- who could maybe think really hard and remember something about the way he looked."

Both of his hands dropped down and hung by his sides as he let out an impatient sigh.

"Alright Ms. Lang, I get your point; so now what?" He turned to face me. "You are the manager of this establishment. What are you going to do, kick all the patrons out because you had to shut down the Talon an hour early?"

I gave him a slight smile, having already thought of that.

"I'll let Sheila fill in for me, she wouldn't mind."

Another sigh escaped his lips, but this time it sounded weary.

"I don't care at this point, as long as we leave right now."

The force of my smile could have competed and won against the sun. I stepped forward, prepared to engulf him with a hug, when I caught myself, remembering who he was. 

Even if we were familiar enough with each other to hug, and even if he wasn't Lex Luthor, I would have still only caught his back, because he had already turned around and opened the door.

I shook my head, remembering what I'd said earlier in the evening, and whispered a hushed thank you under my breath.

**Pete Ross**

There they go. 

I felt my face dip, as an already growing scowl appeared full force. 

What the hell was she doing with Lex anyway? That guy was scum city.

I quickly chewed and swallowed the doughnut that _she had served me more that 30 minutes ago as I sat in my booth of choice. _

How could she just leave like that? Didn't she understand that the only reason I came through this storm was to be with her? Couldn't she see that I liked her?

Just as those thoughts entered my mind they were replaced by new ones; ones that made me decide that maybe Lana was as clueless about this stuff as Clark had been a year ago with Chloe.

I use to hope that Lana would get a best friend that she could confide in, so that I could have asked him or her what she _really_ thought about me. 

But there wasn't any such person.

In reality I had caught her eye a couple of times, but in those instances I hadn't had the balls to continue looking at her to see if she had kept on staring at me.

I wished I knew then that in those instances, we had both looked away because she had been having the same thoughts I was having. It probably could have spared all of us from the drama that later ensued. But I guess everything in life happened for a reason, even the things we didn't like, 'cause in the end, we were all stronger because of what we had experienced.

I _still_ just wished that things could've been different; because had I known all of that, and had I pushed- or even _suggested_ my feelings back then, Lana Lang could've been all mine.

The sad thing though, about wishes spoken of in the past tense, was that they could never come true…

…or could they?

** **

**The Stranger**

** **

There wasn't much time left. 

Everything was about to go down just as it had before, and then it would be too late.

I've already been here for just under two months, and though I made contact twice, they still haven't figured it out.

I sighed then, and tried in vain to find comfort from the bed I was lying on; but my thoughts were too disturbing for me to relax.

I hope they understand. I hope _they haven't made the encryption too hard. _

I shook my head and rolled unto my back, staring into the darkness. Lex Luthor was smart, he would decode it; he would figure it out. A fine layer of sweat broke out along the edge of my forehead.

I just hope that he'll do what's necessary after he's figured it all out, so I won't have to.

A feeling of apprehension settled in my stomach. 

The weight of…_everything_ was resting on my shoulders. But _I _had volunteered. _I_ had put the hopes of everyone on me. 

So no matter how it happened, _I had to complete the mission; regardless of whether or not I had put too much faith in Lex- I still had to do it._

After all…the world needed Superman.


End file.
